The Big Thaw - Donald Harstad [44]
“Nothing personal,” said Art, “but that’s not much of a plan.”
“You are so right,” said Davies. “And that’s just the best possible scenario if the lab doesn’t link him. The very best.”
“So,” I said, “where’s that leave us?”
“The no-link bit, you mean?”
“Yep.”
“That leaves us with very little,” said Davies. “Or, to use a legal term, up Shit Creek without a paddle.”
“Don’t worry,” said Art. “He did it, and the lab will find a link.”
Davies looked at him. “You must have taken a confidence-building course recently.”
“I just don’t accept defeat,” said Art, “when I know I’m right.”
I was glad for him. He was just full of admirable traits.
After much discussion, it was left at this: Absent any other viable suspect, it appeared that Fred was the only person who could have done the deed. Period. We took a short poll, and it was decided that we would diligently seek other suspects. And, in the meantime, we would do all we could to link Fred to the scene.
“We don’t have much pressure today,” said Davies. “Tomorrow, there’ll be more. And each day we go without an arrest, the pressure increases. So long as you understand that.”
“Just like always,” I said.
The dispatch desk called, and said there were several members of the press in the outer office. Art and Davies took the job of talking to them. Lamar went out the unused back way. And I mean, unused. We never opened that door, and never shoveled the snow outside it. I last saw him slogging through two-foot snow drifts, going around behind the building. He really hates the press.
I was tired when I got home around 8:30. Sue had laid in a supply of frozen, microwaveable food. Murder rations, so to speak. Although I couldn’t discuss details, I let her know that things were going slowly.
“How about Madison this weekend?” she asked.
Ooh. We’d been planning to do that since Christmas, and this weekend was the one per month I was scheduled off.
“Not sure. Let me see how it goes tomorrow …” Damn. Another delay would put us into March. Too long. It was going to be difficult, though, getting things arranged for a weekend off. If stuff happened fast, then we would be able to go in March. If it continued at this pace, we’d be going in August if we didn’t go now.
“I know you’re really into this case, but if we don’t go now …”
“I know. Now or six months from now.”
“I got lots of frozen vegetables today. Be sure to eat some.” She smiled. “You need to be healthy, either way.”
I put the frozen vegetables into my microwaved couscous, added a can of mushrooms, sliced a low-fat sausage, and topped the whole thing with fat-free grated cheese. Eleven minutes from opening the first package to a complete, satisfying, and sort of tasty meal.
“I don’t know how you can eat that …”
“Oh,” I said, “thanks. I forgot the Thai sauce …”
“God.” She shook her head. “Your stomach won’t last till spring. If you want to eat at a good restaurant in Madison, you better go soon.”
That was about as close to a clincher as you could get. I popped the top of a can of Diet Cherry Coke, and silently drank a toast to Madison. Hitting directly on top of the Thai sauce, it produced an instant reaction, and I belched.
“You may have to go by yourself …”
I was just scraping off my plate, and opening the dishwasher, when the phone rang. It was Deputy John Willis, our newest officer. He was coming along nicely, and excelled at the snoopy kind of patrol work that would make him an excellent officer.
“Hate to bother you at home …”
“Sure you do.” I picked up a notepad and pen. “Whatta ya got?”
“Well, you know, I got to thinking about Fred, and the Borglan place, and all that stuff. You remember last year, oh, maybe July, when we had that humongous fight in Dogpatch?”
Dogpatch was our name for Jasonville, a very tiny town in the west of the county, population about 100, and one very busy tavern. “Yeah,” I said. “The one where we called everybody but the National Guard?”
We’d arrested over 50 people that night, which isn’t bad for either